Don't Bother None
by Captain Antilles1
Summary: Spike's POV in "Session One: Asteroid Blues", based directly on the Yoko Kanno song "Don't Bother None". Please R&R if you like or dislike the idea. PG-13 only for the language of those three senile old men.


Hey everyone. Long time no see, I forgot all about writing fan-fic since my friend and I started writing stories on a message board... long story. Hope you like it. (I don't own Bebop. Or else I would be a major corporation and have a Japanese sounding name. Get it? Got it? Good.)  
  
Description: Hopefully you have listened to track 3 of Cowboy Bebop OST 2, "No Disc". The song, "Don't Bother None," is excellent music. The lyrics are also excellent, and sound like something describing an average day in the life of our favorite bounty hunter. This is the lyrics, with how it would be with Spike as the character singing the song. That may sound confusing, but you'll get it. It takes place during "Asteroid Blues" on Tijuana. It is right before Spike goes to see Old Man Bull. (For people obsessed with details, I believe in the show Spike went all the way to Mars to talk to Old Man Bull, then flew back to Tijuana. I took the liberty of putting Bull on TJ to begin with. Hopefully, you are not one of those detail-freaks). ( "~~" denotes song lyrics.)  
  
--Don't Bother None--  
  
~~ Readin' the paper in Rey's cafe.  
The old guy next to me is loud as day.  
Ramble and ramble while eating his pie.  
He drops his wallet, now it's mine, uh-huh. ~~  
  
Spike walked throught the loud, noisy streets of Tijuana. A few young kids were playing in the street, running and chasing each other around. The smallest kid accidentally knocked into a display of fruits, toppling the whole arrangement and sending small imported fruits skidding across the dusty road. As the angry woman who ran the market store scolded and threatened the boys, Spike scrubbed the small fruit he had covertly picked up on his blue jacket. He loosened the already loose collar of his shirt and took off his tie, hanging it over his shoulder. By midday, TJ was almost unbearably hot. Locals had adapted by wearing less clothing and always having shade. As hot as Spike was, he was in no mood to see Laughing Bull right now. Naturally, he found the urge to find a bar and get a nice drink.  
  
The first place he sees is a quiet, dark bar named "El Rey". As he stepped inside and took relief from the heat, he sees that the bar was populated only by a tall bartender, a slouching middle-aged man at the bar, and three senile old men sitting in a corner, noisily playing poker. Spike slid into the seat at the bar, lighting a cigarette and sticking it in the corner of his mouth. The bartender didn't seem to notice Spike's arrival, and he clears his throat to get the barkeep's attention. "No smoking," the bar-tender says without looking up. As Spike angrily jams the end of the cigarette into an ashtray. "Could I have a Bloody Mary?" The bartender looks up now, and seems to scrutinize him. "I have the vodka, but I'm afraid I'm all out of tomato juice."  
  
Spike curses softly, then sighs and sat back. The bartender seems anxiously waiting to see if Spike has anything else to say. When Spike said nothing, the bartender shook his head with frustration and put down the glass he was cleaning. "You want something else, kid?"  
  
Spike looks at the old men, who are making a ruckus in the back. One of them throws down his cards in disgust, shouting at his two ancient comrades. Spike sighs, "Yeah, sure. Just give me your best Martian beer." The barkeep nods slightly, then fills a stein from a tap. Spike takes the mug from the man, and takes a long drink. "Thanks a lot. I may not be an expert, but this cheap beer is from Earth. Nothing good ever comes from Earth. I'll just read the paper, if you have it. And I'd like a glass of water."  
  
The tall man glares at Spike, then exchanges the full glass of beer for a local paper, "The Tijuana Times". The man sitting next to Spike silently slides out of his chair and leaves the bar. One of the old men in back has ordered a large slice of coconut pie. He is yelling at his friends louder than ever, and he has a strong, slurred accent. "Will ya stop cheating me, Carlos? God damnit, you thieving rat! You should be thanking me every day! Do ya realize the only reason you can live here is because I dug that gate with all my might, ya hear?" As he tosses his cards on the table, he noisily takes bite of his pie. The one called Carlos now yells back, "You always say that when I beat ya, goddamn it! You know we all dug that gate together, Antonio! So zip your goddamn mouth before I close it for ya." Antonio is fuming now, and tries to yell through a mouthful of pie. The last man, a quiet man who seems to be recalling a long ago time, starts stammering, "That we did... we dug that gate like there was no tomorrow, we did... "  
  
As Antonio starts mumbling again over the next hand of cards, Spike throws down the paper in disgust. "Hard to read with all that damn noise." Spike finishes the glass of water he asked for, and tosses the bartender 3 woolongs. No tip, notices the bartender with disdain. As Spike walks towards the door, whistling an easy-going song, he notices Antonio's thin leather wallet slip out of his back pocket as he jumps up in nosiy protest to a hand of cards he was dealt. "God damn son of a bitch... will ya stop keeping all the good cards for yerself?! Look at that, ya ungrateful slob! If it weren't for my digging..." Spike smirks, then thinks of his empty pockets. Even worse, just one more meal of 'special' beef with bell peppers. Spike's stomach rumbles louder than his conscience can whisper, and he makes up his mind to steal the wallet.  
  
~~Picked up the wallet and slipped outside.  
Walked around, and walked around, and walked around town.  
I found my nerve, and a good place to hide.  
Only to find no cash inside, uh-huh.~~  
  
Spike lopes towards the poker table, shoulders hunched and hands jammed into pockets. As he walks by, whistling, he calmly and cooly kicks the wallet. He sends it sliding silently under the table. As it skids to a stop near the door, Spike drops a handkercheif onto the smooth wood floor. He stoops to pick up the cloth, slipping the wallet into the folds of the handkerchief. The bounty hunter stuffs both of them deep into his coat pocket, then makes his way towards the door. He pushes open the door and slips outside, reeling from the blast of hot air that slams him in the face. Lighting a cigarette as he leaves, Spike watches a long-haired young man in sunglasses and a long coat enter the bar, followed by a lovely pregnant woman in a pink dress.  
  
Spike hesitates to open the wallet. Instead he walks around the town, enjoying the sights of Tijuana as much as he can. He passes a pair on the street, one playing an old acoustic guitar and one wailing away on a harmonica. As Spike listens to the tune, he borrows it and begins humming it as he walks past, spinning the wallet in his fingers. Finally he comes to a stop in front of a decrepit shop. A dirty sign above the doorway says, "Traditional Fortune Telling. Palms Read. 5 Woolongs per reading. Closed weekends."  
  
Spike steps inside, but laments that it is just as hot in the dark shop as it was out in the sun. Finally, Spike yanks out the wallet he stole and tears it open. He finds an identification card ("Return if Lost", Spike muses) and a few worthless coins from before the gates were built. Spike stares at the date. "Even before the Gate Incident This isn't worth anything!" Spike whines. No cash, no woolongs. "And no dinner," Spike grumbles along with his own stomach. He tosses the wallet nonchalantly into a trash can and mutters, "Oh well, I guess that's just the way that it is. Won't help at all to worry 'bout it." He then pushes open the door to Bull's 'reading room'. "Welcome again, Spike. What troubles you?" says Bull in his creaky voice. "Well, Bull, I'm hungry."  
  
~~I got thirsty, so I went to a bar.  
Met a little darling with the face of a star.  
In the morning, I woke up to find.  
She stole my car along with my heart, uh-huh.  
I wish she'd give me back my heart, uh-huh.~~  
  
As Spike walked out of Bull's, he shook his head sorrowfully. No doubt Bull's words would make sense sometime down the line, but he could make no sense of them now. The Swordfish was right where he left it, and he climbed into the cockpit with a stretch of his long, thin legs. Quickly in the air, Spike thought about returning to the Bebop and see if Jet had come up with any leads. He quickly decides against it, realizing that Jet will probably have nothing better than he had himself. Instead he drifted amlessly through the asteroid's air, looking out over vast farmland. "Main, I'm hungry..." No sooner did he he say the words, an angry alarm came from the Swordfish's insides. He leaned over the control panel of his battered MONO racer, seeing the inevitable flashing light indicating that the ship was out of fuel. "You too?" Spike remarked casually. He brought the ship into a low arc towards an urban area on his right, hoping he could steal the woolongs to pay for more rocket fuel and keep his pride and joy running.  
  
"Fill 'er up with regular MONO fuel, please." Spike hopped from the ship and landed awkradly on the hard ground of the fueling station, already lighting a cigarette. "Hey, mister! This is a fueling station! You can't smoke, you'll blow us all up! Are you crazy?" Spike didn't turn, but spit the smoldering butt into a trash can. "Yes, I've been called that," he called over his shoulder as he made his way towards the restroom.  
  
Spike slipped into the first stall on the right and relieves himself. He hears someone else in the bathroom, and it sounds like they are retching and gasping for air. Spike flushes, then swings open the door to the stall and ambles towards one of the sinks, lined up along the wall like toy soldiers. The man next to him, who is wearing a dark coat even in this hot weather, stops retching and peers up with bloodshot eyes over his dark sunglasses. He reaches into his coat, presumably for a gun, but Spike doesn't notice. He finishes washing his hands, then shuffles nonchalantly towards the exit. "It's better to leave the water running. Or it'll clog." Spike whistles on his way out, leaving the strangely familiar man sighing with relief.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry! Thank you..." A beautiful pregnant girl in a violet dress stooped to pick up the groecries that were now sprawled across the cement floor. Spike got to his knees, helping her load her bags with precious food. He nods, and then begins to walk off. "Um..." The girl looks around at her groceries, remembering the bags being quite a bit fuller. After a moment of frozen guilt, Spike turns around and smiles sheepishly past a chewed up hot dog. "I'm sorry," he apologizes, pulling it out of his mouth and offering it to the pretty girl. "Ew! I don't want it anymore. You can have it!" Spike grins, "Lucky me!" and eats the hot dog in one large bite. He then begins pulling food package after food package our of his shirt pockets, placing them back in the bags from which they came from. "I'm really sorry, honest. Felt like my stomach was going to be glued to my back." They laughed together, and Spike found himself attracted to the pretty, exotic girl.  
  
Back by his ship, Spike boasts about his fighter. "I travel around a lot," he says, in response to her comment on its 'well-used' appearance. He twirls a lit cigarette between his fingers, no longer concerned if the fuel attendant sees him. He spins it around his hand in an impressive display of coordination. "I'm actually a wondering performer," he says in an attempt to impress the woman. "I can't tell if you're for real or just joking," she says honestly. "A lot of people say that about me."  
  
"Been to Mars yet?" the girl asks innocently. Spike is immediatly washed in a wave of memories. Before he can drown in the wave of remorse, he swims to the surface of the here and now and replies dully, "I was born on Mars."  
  
The woman noticably brightens at this, but quickly looks crestfallen. Spike finds her harder to read than any code, but it makes her more attractive than ever. "They have everything there. Unlike here, Mars has lots of people, lots of things. They must live happily there." She sighs, wishing that happiness was that easy but knowing the truth. Spike bitterly says, "Only the rich," and is shocked by her almost whispered reply. "Then I'm sure we'll be quite happy there."  
  
"Your planning on escaping to Mars? Running away... but how far can you go?" Spike suddenly matched the face to the man he ran into earlier. He was none other than Asimov Solensan, the Bloody-Eye toting thief and killer. This must be his woman. The bounty reward loomed large in Spike's mind, but his thoughts were overwhelmed by the distressed, ravaged appearance of the drug-abusing man in the bathroom left him with no heart to take advantage of the weakened man.  
  
"Who are you?" the woman stammers. "An old-fashioned cowboy," Spike says in return, watching for her reaction. She now looks aghast. "A bounty hunter!?" "Good call." Now the girl looks confused. "You're not going to catch us?"  
  
"Your buddy seems pretty ill. I don't deal with weakened nobodies."  
"Wise decision." She smiles sweetly, knowingly. Spike wonders what her part in the whole deal is, and then realizes he probably wouldn't like the answer. Somehow, by looking into her dark brown eyes, he could read that all she wanted was an end to this life that she led. He suddenly felt very sorry for her, and wanted to hold her, to embrace her, to comfort her, to...  
  
At that moment, thick fingers clutch around Spike's wiry neck, tightening relentlessly. Spike tries to strangle out words but ends up with a dry cough and shortness of breath. Everyting spins, the outline of his ship turns fuzzy and remote. He hears yelling, but all he can think of is the tightening, the tightening, the tightening fingers. Breath is impossible. The corners of his vision now black out, and he slumps to the ground. The last thing he hears is a roar of engine, and then he slips into blessed unconciousness.  
  
Darkness. Hot, humid, noisy darkness. His throat hurt as if there was something lodged in it, and he was dizzy. His head had a lump on it from hitting the gound. Spike groans, cracking his eyes open. It wasn't the girl, or the man Asimov. He looked into the disappointed eyes of Jet Black, partner in crime. Jet's tall figure loomed over the prone bounty hunter like a skyscraper. "A nap. How peaceful," Jet sarcastically accused Spike. "I had a good dream."  
  
~~Oh well, I guess that's just the way that it is  
Don't Bother None.  
Won't help at all to worry 'bout it.~~  
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Well, that's it, I hope you like it. You know the rest of "Asteroid Blues", right? The poncho, the sombrero, the gun fight, the Jeet Kune Do, the little spaceships, gunshot, blood, "Adios...." But that wasn't part of the song. I hoped you like the 3rd Person narration using Spike's POV. Please read and review. Love you all! 


End file.
